The distraction, and perhaps, Billy’s absence, seemed to end the discussion about the paint, and more lately about Billy’s mentals, and Mister Johnson muttered something about “seeing where this might go,” turned abruptly and stalked down the gangway after physically moving the midshipman to the side.
We watched in silence as he continued his march down the pier. When he was about a half-pistol shot distant, Henry and Judd started laughing and I joined in.
“I’d reckon we made the right choice, keeping that ‘crazy rascal’ aboard to help us out. Seems he has done exactly that!” Henry struggled to get the words out around his mirth.
“Might be we should tell him to lay low for a bit. I’d warrant that yard fellow is going to be keeping a weather eye out for our friend, at least for a while.” Judd, who had had several dealings with Billy, suggested, sagely.
“Oliver, why not let him know what’s acting here. We’ll wait for you.” Henry had gained control of his senses.
“Did not O’Donahue say he was not in the ship?”
“Oh, he’s here. You know he can disappear almost at will when he’s of a mind. I am most sure he knew Mister Johnson was aboard and it might answer best were he out of sight. You know where to look, Oliver.” Henry winked at me as he spoke.
And indeed I did. I found him almost at once, lounging on a pile of new canvas that had provided Billy with a bed for the past fortnight and more in the sail locker. He seemed unmoved by my announcement, merely nodding at my recounting of Mister Johnson’s dismay. He offered no acknowledgment of his deeds, nor was any sought.
“He’ll stay put for bit, I think, Henry.” I offered in response to Henry’s inquiring look as I rejoined my colleagues and left the ship.
Not a month had passed before Billy’s charitable instincts bubbled again to the surface. The early-morning darkness had just given way to the yellow ball of a late-March sun, as it began to warm everything it touched, a true harbinger of springtime, when a large wagon lumbered to a halt alongside the frigate, just back at her original pier from having been heaved down while her bottom got a shiny new coat of copper sheets. I still had the watch at the gangway, and observed with interest as the drayman stepped on the front wheel and then jumped to the ground. A slouch hat hid his face, but the build was familiar.
Jack Comstock, our Bosun, and Mister Worth, the new Sailing Master, also saw the wagon pull up and, with barely a “by yer leave,” to me, the officer of the watch, were down the gangway and pulling the canvas tarpaulin off the bed of the wagon. I was reminded of children receiving the visit, and obligatory gifts, of a favorite uncle. And then I recognized the drayman; Billy Halethorpe had been visiting the stores shed, apparently during the dark hours.
I craned my neck to see what it had been that so delighted both the bosun and the sailing master, a dour fellow not given to jollity. The bed of the wagon was piled high with blocks, large and small, some with iron hooks and some with rope straps affixed to them. Most appeared new or nearly so, the wood bright and the iron well blackened. The wagon appeared to hold enough to finish restoring our rig, and about time!
“Billy, you old scoundrel, you: you done it, by the Almighty! And them riggers told me, an’ you, John, they wasn’t a block to be had!” Comstock was fairly jumping for joy. Even John Worth was clapping Billy on the back.
Billy, for his part, just smiled, the hole in his whiskers growing bigger, while his remaining teeth interrupted the symmetry. His eyes, deep-set though they were, twinkled.
“Mister Baldwin, sir. Would you mind calling out a work party to get this bounty aboard the ship? Likely oughter get it did sooner ‘an later.” Comstock shouted up to the deck.
I acknowledged his request with a wave, agreeing silently that, considering who delivered the ‘bounty,’ getting it out of sight was likely a fine idea, and sent my messenger to roust a handful of seamen from their morning meal.
Very quickly, the dozen or so sailors who showed up in response to my summons, had the wagon emptied and the blocks struck below, all under the watchful eyes of our bosun and sailing master, one at the wagon, the other on deck ensuring that Billy’s surprise was cached safely below.
The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, much of the crew readying our spar deck for the carronade slides we expected now that we had received almost all of the long gun carriages. The remainder of the sailors, under the supervision of Judd and the sailing master, worked aloft, reeving running rigging—it seemed like miles of it—through our newly acquired blocks. Halyards, sheets, braces, clew lines, and other tackles all had to be rigged before we could bend on a shred of canvas, canvas which had been aboard for several months, keeping our sailmakers busy as ever could be.
The crew’s evening supper and spirits had just been piped when the first lieutenant and I, talking about our great good fortune in being assigned to this wonderful ship, espied Mister Johnson marching purposefully down the pier. Captain Decatur was ashore on another summons from the Secretary of the Navy, presumably reporting on our progress, so Henry was the senior officer aboard.
“Well, lookee there! Do you s’pose our eagle-eyed Yard Superintendent noticed he was missing some blocks, Oliver?” Henry’s tone was more bemused than concerned, and I took my cue from him.
“I would have thought he might not have noticed at all, Henry. After all, look at how long it took him to discover we had gotten ahold of his precious paint!”
We watched in silence, both smiling, as Mister Johnson stormed down the pier and noticed that he kept casting his gaze aloft. With our topmasts up, I am sure he found the frigate an impressive sight, but didn’t for a moment believe he was coming to pay us a compliment!
“You people have allowed that lunatic to rob me again!” He started his rant even before he stepped aboard.
“Excuse me, sir. I am afraid you have the advantage over us; whatever are you referring to?” Henry’s innocence might have convinced a more rational sort, but clearly, Mister Johnson was neither rational nor convinced.
“That rascal, Halethorpe, has stolen all my blocks. I know he has, sure as we’re standin’ here. I demand you produce the thief and make him answer for his crimes.” Johnson was standing almost toe to toe with Henry and, on every “s” word, he sent forth a shower of spittle, making Henry retreat a step, and then another.
“Mister Johnson: the last time you were aboard my ship, you accused us of stealing your paint, though you had absolutely no proof whatever of the act. Now, here you are yet again, accusing us of more mischief. Do you have some proof this time that your blocks are indeed in the ship? And you mention Billy, who admittedly is not quite right aloft, as the culprit. Have you any witnesses or are you merely assuming that, because our man is a bit simple, he would be the easiest to persecute?” Lieutenant Allen put a bit of an edge to his voice which brought the Superintendent up short.
“Witnesses? By Jove, man, of course not. I don’t need any witnesses; I can see the blocks hanging right yonder in your rig. All you have to do is look.” Now his tone was incredulous, as if he thought Henry was a simpleton, too.
“Yes, I know we have blocks rigged aloft. Have you, in your long career as a civilian employee of the Navy Yard, ever seen a ship put to sea without blocks? My goodness, man. Think about it: how would we hoist our sails, adjust their set, reef or hand them, or anything else without blocks? Couldn’t be done! Why would you expect us to be any different? We are trying to put United States into service and get her, and us, out of your Yard; without our rig complete, we clearly would be unable to accomplish that. And that, my friend, is something that both the Secretary and Cap’n Decatur are most keen on.” Henry spoke quietly and slowly, as though he were talking to someone who might be a bit slow.
“Those blocks are mine, damn all! They were all stowed in my rigging shed and earmarked for other vessels. Now I am going to be behind on those, while you sit here, fat and fancy, almost ready to sail. I demand you produce that scalawag, Halethorpe, a
nd let us see what he might have to say about this.” Johnson might have taken umbrage at Henry’s earlier tone.
I noticed, behind Mister Johnson, that our night-time supplier was ambling aft, perhaps heading for the gangway and a run ashore. I gently nudged my colleague who followed my glance.
“Well, Mister Johnson, this would appear to be a lucky day for you; Mister Halethorpe is aboard and, in fact, about to join us.” Henry waved to Billy who smiled broadly and waved back.
“Hullo there, Jeremy. What brings you out this evening?” Billy greeted Johnson as though the two were old shipmates, not antagonists in an ongoing confrontation over Billy’s habits. And I smiled as I heard his use of Johnson’s given name; apparently no one, save Cap’n Decatur, was immune from that.
“You rascal, you. You are a thief, Halethorpe. And I have told you hundreds of times, damn all, do not call me Jeremy. You ain’t got the right!” Johnson’s demeanor was quite a contrast to Billy’s.
To his credit, our civilian crewman never changed his pleasant expression. He continued to smile and held his hand out, waiting for Mister Johnson, a very riled up Mister Johnson, to shake it. Which was surely not about to happen. Henry and I made every effort to suppress our own feelings of mirth, deciding to let Billy handle this and see how he did.
“Why, Jeremy, whatever has got you so riled up? Couldn’t be good for yer constitution. Look at me; I don’t let meself get so worked up and likely accounts for my years.” Billy’s smile never wavered.
“You stole my entire supply of blocks, you scoundrel. I can see them all over your rig. I don’t know how you done it, but I got no doubt it was you. Sure as I’m standin’ here.”
Henry’s nudge caused me to notice that the raised voices and unbecoming language had begun to draw an audience, Bosun Comstock and Sailing Master Worth prominent among them.
“Stole?” Billy’s innocence was clear; it couldn’t have been him! “How could you say such a thing? Oh, I know; my memory ain’t so good as it useter be—since I got hit by the lightning back in ought six. Sometimes makes me take on the craziness, time to time. Some o’ my old shipmates useter call me flat-out crazy after that. And they sent me ashore on account o’ it. But stealin’ from the Navy? Ain’t in me to do that. And struck crazy by that bolt o’ lightning or no, I’da likely ‘membered I done that! When’d you say this happened?” Billy was carrying off his act with brilliance!
“Hadda been last night… or this morning. This ship wasn’t rigged out with her runnin’ riggin’ last week, and here you are, lookin’ damn near ready for sea—and all of a sudden. Hadda be you; ain’t no one else woulda dared steal from me.”
Jack Comstock chose that moment to join the group. A large man by anyone’s standards, he towered over Mister Johnson and used his bulk and height to intimidating advantage.
“You seem some riled up over our bein’ part-rigged, sir. Why is that a problem? You sent them blocks and the runnin’ rigging over by dray more’n a month ago. As we was heaved down in the gravin’ yard at the time, we couldn’t put ‘em to use then. Matter of fact, when we received our gun carriages, we had the devil’s own time getting’ ‘em aboard without our rig done. So, as the bosun of this fine vessel, I personally am glad to have the chance to thank you for seein’ to it we had our rope and blocks in jig time!” Comstock stuck out his massive paw, which Johnson simply gaped at for a long moment, before allowing the bosun to pump his hand enthusiastically.
“Over a month ago?” The Superintendent asked. “There’s nothing wrong with my memory, sir. And I would have had to personally order that material to be sent round to this ship. Which I clearly did not. Halethorpe stole it! And last night, it was.”
Billy beamed at this, his head cocked to one side as though hearing something distant. And then he began to shuffle his feet, dancing to a tune only he could hear. Johnson stared at him, shook his own head and turned to leave.
“You people ain’t heard the end of this. No siree. I know what happened.” Then he shook his finger at Billy.
“You can’t get away from me, you rascally thief. I know you been stealin’ me blind over these past years and I aim to see you stand for your crimes!” With an angry look at, first Billy, who simply continued to shuffle his feet with a far-off look in his eyes, then at Henry and me, he left, marching down the gangway as angry as when he had marched up it.
We watched in amused silence, the four of us. Then Comstock took Billy by the arm.
“Come on, Billy. We’ll fix you up with some spirits and a bit of supper.”
For his part, Billy just looked at the bosun as though he had just noticed him, and continued to dance. Suddenly he stood stock-still, fixing his gaze on something aloft.
“Lookee there, Jack. We got some o’ the rig up! You lads musta found them blocks an’ rope I had stowed below!” He smiled, toothlessly, and added, “You say something about spirits, Jack? I could use me a dram.”
Comstock shot Henry and me a befuddled look, though he knew well about Billy’s fits of the “mentals,” shook his head and guided our benefactor toward the scuttle to the gundeck.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Six weeks later saw us swinging to our best bower in Hampton Roads. The rain dappled the water of the harbor, falling straight down on this windless morning. Each drop, generous in size, left a momentary scar where it landed, marking the surface like the face of a survivor of the pox. Even with the rain, this dreary May morning bore the promise of being hot with little hope of a cooling breeze, according to Gunner Perkins.
“On deck, there. Boat approachin’ from shore. Looks like the cap’n.” The hail from the lookout inspired the deck watch to action, rain or no.
“Boat ahoy!” I had heard both the lookout’s cry and the hail from the watch officer—I saw it was Midshipman O’Donahue and was pleased that he had responded correctly—and started aft from where I had been overseeing, along with the gunner, the mounting of firing locks on our new bow chasers. And I heard the reply from the boat.
“United States!” The cox’n’s shout would serve to alert the watch that Captain Decatur was in the boat and headed for us.
Henry and Judd arrived at the break in the bulwark just after I did, O’Donahue having sent his messenger for the first lieutenant as soon as he heard the boat cox’n announce his passenger. Squinting through the rain, I could see another man, an officer who appeared to keep a sodden boat cloak wrapped tightly around him, sitting in the sternsheets with the captain. Silently we all watched the boat’s approach and smart, seamanlike landing directly at the boarding battens below us. The watch threw down a line and Decatur and his passenger started up the battens holding the manropes that hung from the deck. To my eye, the passenger seemed less than accomplished at scaling the side of a warship.
“Welcome back, Cap’n. I presume you enjoyed some success in your errand ashore?” Lieutenant Allen was first among us, as appropriate to his position in the ship, to greet the captain.
“Indeed I did, Mister Allen. Give me half an hour to change out of these soaked garments and then please have the officers assemble …” He stopped, thinking.
After a quick look aloft, seeing, I am sure, the unbroken, heavy, gray clouds that still sent their offerings down on us, he finished. “Have them come to the Cabin, if you please. I expect we’ll all be more comfortable there. I have some news to share out with you.” He returned our salutes and started to head for the companionway to his quarters, then stopped abruptly and turned about.
“I very nearly forgot. Gentlemen, may I introduce to you Lieutenant Peter Cochran? Mister Cochran has been assigned in the frigate as our second lieutenant. I am sure you gentlemen will make him comfortable.” Decatur finished the introductions by announcing our names and our respective assignments, Henry first, then Judd, then me, to our newest officer.
After salutes and handshakes as appropriate were exchanged, and Henry and Mister Cochran exchanged some pleasantries, I took the opportunity to stud
y my new superior.
He had a weak jaw, seeming not to have a chin worth mentioning. His side-whiskers were sparse, though black, which made his skin appear even more pallid than I am sure it actually was. His eyes were wide-set, giving the impression that he could look to both sides at once. I also took note that his hand, when proffered during his introduction was as soft as a lady’s. I made his age somewhere greater than any of us there, perhaps twenty-eight or so.
This fellow has not been doing much in the way of work, I’d warrant! And if he has, it surely was not outside. Hasn’t been in the sun in quite some time. I compared his complexion to Judd’s, who happened to stand close by his new shipmate.
His frame was slight and he stood, I’d guess, something over five and a half feet tall. And his voice was, in keeping with his soft hands and pale skin, quiet; in fact, even to hear him, as close as we stood, over the sound of the rain, I had to attend closely. I noticed my colleagues seemed to strain to catch his words, as well.
But he stood straight, and had had a firm grip; he also looked into the eyes of whoever had engaged him in conversation, most particularly, Henry. His uniform, though wet in spite of the boat cloak, was well fitted to his modest build and had been properly brushed.
“Mister Baldwin: you will show Mister Cochran to the gunroom, if you please.” Henry ended the pleasantries and turned to O’Donahue who was close at hand. “Mister O’Donahue: please see that Mister Cochran’s chest and anything else he brought are sent below promptly.”
“Have you much time at sea, Mister Cochran?” I inquired as I showed him into the gunroom and noted his seeming chagrin at the accommodations.
“Not since I was a midshipman, Lieutenant. And that was a long time ago … during that business with France in the last century.” Cochran did not look at me as he spoke, unlike his direct gaze earlier.
I was right on the edge of asking where he had been for the past ten years when he continued.
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